Section 31 Official Business
by Nero Parham
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise encounter the tactics of Section 31.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine are the creations of Paramount Pictures not me.

The lights were dim, the air was chilled, the walls were cracked, and the furniture was hard and cheap inside the makeshift office. Such was the condition of any of the dozens of temporary makeshift headquarters Luther Sloan had constructed over the past year, hundreds in his career. Section 31 has no official headquarters or any permanent bases. In order to remain autonomous and un-official Section 31 cannot risk setting up a base for more than a few months. Always makeshift, to allow for a quick and quiet departure, and always on a backwater planet just outside Federation space. It was easy to find such a planet where the locals would not ask questions for a small fee, perhaps the assassination of an unpopular leader, a piece of technology they needed, or sometimes even a simple payment of gold pressed latinum. Section 31 performed all of the above tasks as part of a regular workday protecting the Federation so what was one more job for a few months of stability?

Sloan poured himself a glass of bourbon while looking at the image on the computer screen and listened. The communication transmission to Admiral Nero Blackwell was live though seconds after both sides hung up it would never exist on any computer log on either end. "Are our agents prepared on Likon VI" Blackwell asked. "Our agents are in position to complete the task as soon as the order goes out, Sloan replied after taking a sip of bourbon. "Lighters successor as trade negotiator will be in office within four hours," Sloan then reported to the admiral. "Good, the _Enterprise _won't arrive for another two days. By then our operative inside the Trade Counsel will have taken control," Blackwell said. "Then everything is going according to plan. I'll be leaving here tomorrow. I'll contact you when I've relocated safely. Sloan out." Sloan then quickly tapped the button on the computer console ending the communication. He then waked to the communication computer transceiver and removed the isolinear chip that automatically logged all communications and their contents. Sloan took his phaser from the top of the desk and shot the chip disintegrating it immediately. No record of the communication now existed.

Sloan then sat back at the desk and drank more of the bourbon from his glass. The bourbon took the chill out of the air in the cold headquarters but also served another purpose. Though Sloan would never admit it, the stress of running a secret organization sometimes wore on him and the bourbon helped him wind down and sleep. Finishing the glass Sloan quickly secured the only door into the room and the small window looking down onto the dingy street and laid down on the sofa in the office near the desk. He would get about four hours of sleep before having to pack the few items in the office he needed to keep and catching a cargo transnsport off the planet. No one would ever know Luther Sloan had ever inhabited that dingy upstairs office for the past month, or about the conspiracy that had been hatched between that room and Nero Blackwell's office at Starfleet Intelligence. No one would know about another secret operation to protect the Federation by Section 31.

**Captains Ready Room**

**_U.S.S Enterprise_ (NCC 1701-D) **

Jean-Luc Picard sat at his desk with a cup of hot earl grey tea and examined the paperwork that had landed on his desk during the day. Though his shift was officially over and he should be relaxing it rarely happened and it certainly wasn't going to happen with the current mission at hand. Negotiating a successful trade agreement with Likon VI wasn't going to allow much free time. They were two days away and much work still had to be done.

Picard had been assigned to be the Federation representative and the background preparation had been tedious. Likonians were members of the Federation but had always been hasty to open full trade with the Federation. Likonians preferred to stay at a distance even from their allies so it was a surprise when they asked the Federation for a full time trade agreement to replace the very limited and strict one that currently existed.

Picard had finished reading one of the ships daily reports and was about to pick up another one when his communicator badge chirped and a voice came over the speaker, "Bridge to Captain Picard." "Picard here," Picard replied putting down the report. "There is an incoming communication from Starfleet for you, Admiral Blackwell," the bridge officer reported. "Put it through to my ready room," Picard ordered. "Aye sir," responded the bridge officer." Picard tapped his combadge closing the intership communication channel and tapped the button on his desktop computer console.

The blank screen was replaced with the image of Admiral Nero Blackwell. Blackwell was in his mid fifties but looked about ten years older. His hair was light grey and his face showed lines the reflected too much stress and too little time to deal with it. "Captain I'm afraid I have some bad news for you about your mission to Likon VI. The head of the Trade Counsel, Rakon Lighter, was found dead this morning outside his vacation home in the capital city" said Admiral Blackwell. "What is to become of the trade negotiations" Picard then asked. The admiral looked on at the captain and said, "A new head for the Trade Counsel will be sworn in by tomorrow morning. From what I've been told it will be Drykin Treyce. Not surprisingly little is known about him, bit it is rumored he does favor more open trade with the Federation. But to answer your question the negotiations will take place on schedule. The Likonian government has informed me that they wish for the negotiations to take place on schedule despite what has happened. Do you have any more questions captain?" "No sir," Picard replied. "Keep me informed of your progress when you reach Likon VI," Blackwell then ordered. "Yes sir," Picard replied. With one last look at Picard Blackwell simply said, "Blackwell out" and the screen went blank.

Picard picked up his cup of tea to find it had gotten cold during the conversation with Blackwell. He got up from his desk and went to the replicator and ordered a fresh cup. After getting the new cup of tea he strode to the tall vertical window in the ready room behind his desk and gazed at the streaking stars move past. While he gazed he also thought about this recent turn in the situation on Likon VI. _How odd that someone who supports open trade with the Federation would suddenly come to head the Trade Counsel just before negotiations with the Federation begin _Picard thought. While Picard preferred to be an optimist he was also a realist. It was too convenient for this to happen now by accident. Something was up, and Picard wondered what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Another makeshift office, another dim planet full of shady characters, another payoff and Luther Sloan was once again set up to do business. This time the office he received didn't afford him the luxury of a view of the dingy streets below. For this Sloan was grateful, additional security. Sloan had yet to unpack most of the little equipment he carried because he needed to check in with Nero Blackwell at Starfleet and his henchmen on Likon IV. The only things set up was the long-range communication unit, a bottle of bourbon and a tumbler. Sloan turned on the communications array and poured himself a double shot of bourbon. Once the unit was activated Sloan opened a secure channel to his sources on Likon IV. The image on the computer monitor was quickly replaced with Sloan's henchman. He had pale skin, gaunt features, and many deep lines chiseled across his face. "The job is done," the henchman reported to Sloan. "Very good. Any way it could be traced back to us" Sloan asked. "None, a very clean efficient job" replied the henchman. "Good, now get yourself out of there before you're found," Sloan ordered. "I've got passage on a cargo transport tomorrow. You look tired," the henchman replied. Sloan knocked back a swallow of his bourbon and said, "I'm fine, just worry about getting yourself out of there. Contact me once you're safely hidden." The shady henchman gave a quick nod and cut the communication. Sloan knocked back another big gulp of bourbon and leaned back in the cheap chair he acquired for the office. He in fact was tired. He wasn't as young as he used to be. Five hours of sleep per night didn't last as long as it did when he first got into the business of covert operations.

Sloan sighed, refilled his glass of bourbon, and opened another channel on the communications unit. This time the blank monitor was replaced with the face of Nero Blackwell. Sloan looked at the lavish surroundings of Blackwell's office and silently sighed in disgust. Blackwell got to work out of his giant office at Starfleet Intelligence and he was working in the field on some unknown backwater planet filed with shady characters. Sloan hated Blackwell and yet he admired him. Sloan envied the fact that Blackwell could work directly for Starfleet and still work for Section 31. Sloan couldn't imagine himself working so long for Starfleet without getting caught. Starfleet Intelligence was to far in the open to remain hidden to long for him.

"Picard and the _Enterprise_ have been notified of the change of power in the Likonian Trade Counsel," Blackwell told Sloan. "Good, my men on Likon are moving out tomorrow. By tomorrow night nobody will ever know we were there." "Excellent, everything is moving as planned," Blackwell said. After that the communication was cut. Sloan took out the computer chip recording the conversations and destroyed it. Then he finished his glass of bourbon and laid down for a few hours of much needed sleep. Tomorrow was another day. Another day to get more done for the Federation.


End file.
